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YieShawn Scutt Apr 2016
I don't write uplifting words
my poems are  stones I throw at the soaring birds
Because I'm jealous
Yearning to get that high and it makes me rebellious
All I want is a friend
But y'all just pretend
I invite you to a home
Love you just like kin
And what do I get in return
A back stab and a burn
But just wait
Just wait  youll get yo turn
Think one day you'll learn
That what you get is what you earn
What you dish
Is what you fish
What you leave
Is what you receive
Then one day we can try again
You can try to accompany me
PaperclipPoems Oct 2015
I would rather be your Friday night than your Sunday morning
Because I know that you're with me Sunday morning.
I would rather be your Unknown Caller.
I would rather be your
"meet me on the corner" or your
"I wish I could stay"
Because that way I would know where I stand.

But I'm not any of these things.
I am your wife. And I am envious of the one who has your heart while I only have your hand.
Marriage doesn't mean what it should mean these days. It's so sad.
Lydia Oct 2015
I'm tired of being jealous of other people's lives
I want to make a life that someone else is envious of
that makes them want to change their lives for the better
that makes them question how they're living or what they really wanna do
If they're staying true to themselves
or just doing what everyone else wants
s Sep 2015
why can't I be perfect?
why must I be flawed?
all I wish is to be exactly like you
people tell me to be myself
but to be myself is not enough
I am weak
I am nothing
I am hopeless
I cannot be myself
to be myself will end in tragedy
sadness
grief
I look up to you
I aspire to be you
but then my mind gets twisted
I become
jealous
envious
bitter
hateful
why must you be so perfect?
why must you be the "better" one?
why must you be so flawless?
why can't it be me?
what is so wrong with me?
i hate it so much
this is for every sibling out there who's ALWAYS compared to the "better" sibling
Mikayla May 2015
The way he looks at me,
the way he smiles at me.
I wonder what it feels like..
To what..?
Feel envious,
Hate,
Love..?
His green eyes, look at me.
His eyes make me feel bare.
My emotions are fleeting,
to some mythical place.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2014
In arms we entered,
Her red hair lit all in Pub,
  .  .  .  My firing squad.
He is a poet
And everybody knows it
Though sometimes they can be a little hard;
He gives them wordings
As easy as is speaking
And does it with pride and truly without regard.
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